Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 127

The core meeting on the eve of the auction was a tradition of the Wolf Family, intended to confirm that the domains managed by the five top executives were functioning normally. In other words, everything that needed to be done had been pretty much completed, and any last-minute changes were too late to implement, making the gathering more ceremonial than substantive.

But Khalif didn’t see it that way this time.

“The catalog was finalized and distributed to all corners of the continent four months ago. There’s no time to adjust the auction items now,” Adan murmured under his breath. Louis caught a glimpse of his normally interlaced hands on his lap, now twisted together in tension.

“And this would affect the Wolf’s—”

“Of course,” Khalif interrupted him nonchalantly. “You misunderstand me. I mean setting up a few sub-venues during the main auction breaks, to clear out some… ah, items that aren’t suitable for public display.”

Adan almost laughed out loud. What could possibly be inappropriate for display at a White Bridge auction? They even sold lives! He understood what Khalif meant. “Inappropriate” didn’t just mean contraband or ethically questionable items, but things that didn’t align with the Wolf’s interests. What could possibly infringe on the Wolf’s interests more than expanding the Monkey Family’s share of the auction?

“Your mind has always been agile, which is why you handle our transactions,” Khalif said sternly. “Incorporating two or three small trades within seven days won’t affect our business.”

Adan forcibly suppressed his anger. “But if they are contraband, we need time to prepare in advance to avoid accidents.” He turned to Louis. “We’re short on manpower and energy.”

Like “Sharon’s Crown”, many items in White Bridge could easily cause turmoil if brought onto the continent. For instance, just to seal that crown before it was displayed in the Monkey’s window, two transport workers and a sigil artist had died, not to mention the lives lost from mere contact with it before that—White Bridge’s auction’s reputation wasn’t only for monopolizing the continent’s resources or its efficiency in goods distribution but also for its impregnable security measures. None of this fell from the sky. It all required years of experience, trial and error, and sufficiently cautious pre-planning.

Louis furrowed his brows sharply. Adan rarely saw this typically impassive peer reveal so much emotion in a meeting. He was first shocked, then quickly realized what was happening, his expression darkening even further.

He shouldn’t have said that!

But Khalif couldn’t possibly be so foolish…

Khalif’s gaze was piercing. “Arthur and Louis, what do you think?”

Red-haired Arthur shifted uncomfortably. Louis was in charge of defense, and he handled magic-related security. Among the five Elders, they collaborated the most, so it was natural for them to be named together now. But Adan’s impulsive speech made it tricky, and from Louis’s expression, he too realized this.

Adan’s point was valid. Security required meticulous preparation, and there simply wasn’t time now—but if they expressed that, he feared Khalif would propose working with the Monkeys.

That would be no different than ceding territory.

Seeing Khalif’s expression, Arthur feared he really might be that forgetful of his origins.

Their alpha wolf was becoming senile, but even an aged, senile wolf still had sharp fangs, likely to bite anyone who opposed him face-to-face.

Arthur, an unregistered mage who had long focused solely on his craft and not on physical combat, quickly calculated his options and decided to pass the buck.

“It’s very difficult,” Arthur said. “It depends on whether Louis can spare the manpower—a lot of manpower.”

His words brought an awkward silence to the room. Even those who disliked Louis internally cursed Arthur for his shameless act but had to admit they would have done the same in his position.

Because…

“We can’t cooperate.” Louis responded immediately. Adan and Arthur both secretly breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone among the five Elders was going to oppose and contradict Khalif first, it was Louis.

Khalif’s expression darkened.

“Oh? Why?” he asked softly.

This was a prelude to his anger.

“There’s no time, no manpower,” Louis said, as if he hadn’t noticed his tone. “Before setting up a sub-venue, Azman has added a lot of ancillary events this year, and the security team’s strength has already been weakened. The remaining personnel must fully support the main auction.”

Azman, named directly, also looked displeased. “I said it wasn’t necessary—”

“Many of your event items come from the Monkeys. The instability of black magic is well known. You can’t afford the consequences if it gets out of control,” Louis said bluntly, looking straight at him. “Either you cut ties with the Monkeys and let them handle those parties and events themselves, or don’t set the venue within White Bridge or the inner river area. Otherwise, I won’t lift a finger. This isn’t for you.”

Louis didn’t spell it out, but his few words positioned his stance with the Wolf Family, almost pointing a finger at Azman for lacking a grand vision and accusing the Monkeys of definitely causing trouble if left unchecked, perhaps even insinuating an indirect slap to Khalif’s face.

Khalif snapped. “Enough!”

Azman snorted.

“If you can’t do it, find someone to help you,” Khalif said coldly. “Don’t make excuses for your incompetence.”

Louis hummed. “Then let Azman provide some people. After all, he’s the one who made the mess.”

?!?!?!

Adan nearly jumped from his seat.

What did that mean? Was Louis agreeing to the suggestion to set up a sub-venue? Was he joking—?

The other Elders’ faces were more shocked than Adan’s. Wasn’t Louis supposed to be the rebel?

Khalif was about to explode, but Louis mentioned Azman…

Still pondering, Arthur and Adan could no longer sit still.

“This is still too rushed!”

“There’s never been such a precedent. It’s better to try it next time. The interests of the Wolf Family…”

It seemed Khalif hadn’t expected the stubborn nail Louis to give in, and now that others were getting involved, the frustration he’d been suppressing flared up, loudly reprimanding them for their uselessness.

In just a few exchanges, the focus completely shifted.

Louis smirked audibly, quietly watching the dispute continue without further involvement.

Meanwhile, on Paradise Island, where night had already fallen, because the auction was starting tomorrow, many tasks still required all-night work, so many people hadn’t gone home yet—some were even just leaving now, while children had already been tucked into bed. The bustling streets of the day were now eerily quiet.

Most residents of this area didn’t waste energy lighting lamps at night, and if there was no moon, it was pitch black, making it impossible to see even the ground beneath one’s feet.

Eugene, however, was accustomed to the dark, but the uneven roads still made his progress difficult.

In fact, he had a tinderbox and candles in his coat pocket, but the locals rarely indulged in the luxury of carrying lanterns or lighting candles while traveling. He didn’t want to draw attention by behaving differently, so he had to grope his way forward while trying hard to discern the direction.

He didn’t know the exact destination. Charlie’s Gray Sentinel had only relayed a brief message, instructing him to go alone to a certain place on Paradise Island in the middle of the night.

Trusting the shopkeeper, Eugene had followed the instructions without hesitation, though diarrhea and hunger from fasting had impaired his thinking, and he hadn’t delved into the peculiar directive—why had the shopkeeper reached White Bridge but not met with the Duke and others, instead entering Paradise Island?

And at this hour, aside from those working at night, only owls were awake. The houses around him were all dark without a trace of light, and streetlamps were a fanciful thought. Eugene corrected his direction several times with great effort, guided only towards the area the shopkeeper had mentioned.

He was now deep within Paradise Island, surrounded by the lingering scent of onion soup and fried fish, as if a large meal had just concluded. A relatively sturdy and decent house surprisingly showed light through, its ground floor door wide open, inviting anyone to enter freely.

Eugene didn’t rashly approach but observed from a distance for a while. Thanks to the cover of night, he simply squatted in the corner of a shack and blended completely into the background, unnoticed by anyone. Additionally, due to malnutrition, many residents of Paradise Island suffer from night blindness, and due to their extreme poverty, they lack a sense of vigilance, so no one would bother to check if someone was hiding by the roadside.

While he observed, people gradually arrived under the moonlight, some in groups of two or three, others alone. They were dressed casually and without hesitation, entered the building as naturally as if visiting their aunt.

Thinking it over, Eugene stood up before his legs became numb and followed behind two skinny men, casually approaching the house.

For Paradise Island’s standards, this house was exceptional. Though it was also constructed of wooden planks, its two-story boxy structure appeared meticulous, and besides the door, it was painted white, setting it apart from the colorful residences around it.

Eugene was prepared to feign ignorance, but surprisingly, from entering to ascending the stairs, no one stopped him—in fact, no one even seemed curious about his arrival, as if it was normal for strangers to enter. The skinny men ahead of him only glanced back once when they sensed someone following, then quickly turned away.

Upon entering, he saw a woman in a wrap dress who smiled at them as they came in.

“Good evening,” she said softly. “No questions are arranged for tonight. Please make an appointment for tomorrow if you have any queries.”

Eugene was full of questions, but his face showed none of it. Instead, he clasped his hands and returned a good evening, like the two men ahead of him. He was unaware that his unchallenged entry wasn’t only due to new faces being common here but also because he looked as thin and frail as the other two men—the difference being they looked that way due to poverty, whereas Eugene was actually sick.

The group ascended the stairs and turned into a corridor, where they found the entire second floor had been converted into a small auditorium with a thin carpet on the floor. Many people were already seated there, and from the corridor, all Eugene could see was the backs of heads—men and women, old and young.

Now Eugene understood why he hadn’t been suspected. The room was tightly packed with around a hundred or two hundred people. It was impossible that they were all from one family or knew each other. Sitting next to strangers was nothing unusual.

The room was nearly full, and latecomers had to squeeze into spaces near the back door. Because of his weak competitive spirit, Eugene had to sit awkwardly half-off the corridor to find a spot. Even then, people continued to come upstairs, gradually filling even the corridor.

Eugene realized what this place was for. When he saw an elderly man draped in silk emerge from a hidden door and everyone raised their arms in a low chant, only Eugene was confused. Wasn’t this the religion Jason mentioned? That profound-looking man must be Aquinas!

Aquinas was accompanied by two assistants, heads to toes in veils, revealing only their eyes, and holding golden basins behind him. Used to worshipful adoration, Aquinas sat cross-legged on the platform, starting his session without greeting, diving straight into storytelling.

Yes, storytelling.

Eugene had never been so attentive in class—he estimated Aquinas told five stories that evening, all quite similar. Each involved someone from some place who had committed certain sins, saw the God of Judgment before dying, and realized their wrongs, giving all their wealth as tribute to cleanse their sins. Aquinas was an eloquent speaker, making the stories vivid, especially contrasting the afterlives of those who had atoned and those who hadn’t, and how the living spared no expense to ease the suffering of their deceased loved ones. His storytelling was far better than the erotic novels Eugene secretly bought.

After the stories, Aquinas summarized a table of criminal behaviors for the congregants to compare against themselves, to tally how much sin they had accumulated with their age and what its monetary value was. This part was reasonable, involving actions like “harboring malice”, “theft”, and “slandering others”.

Eugene didn’t participate in the tallying. Instead, he watched Aquinas exit through a side door by the platform. Judging by the house’s outer structure, it could only lead downstairs.

As soon as Aquinas turned to leave, Eugene scrambled up and rushed down the stairs, navigating the now empty reception hall to the inner room, where Aquinas and his group were indeed located. The keen-feeling person in the full veil noticed Eugene as soon as he peeked in and immediately approached him.

Eugene instinctively wanted to flee, but his rationality held him back. As a “believer”, it was too late to kneel down, and seeing his idol, how could he run?

He adjusted his expression, ready to shout fervently, “I want to see Lord Aquinas!” when the person preempted him. “Eugene.”

Eugene paused.

That was the shopkeeper’s voice.

The person swiftly grabbed Eugene’s arm, pulling him into a tiny broom closet.

This house was luxurious by Paradise Island standards. Even a utility room had a small wall lamp. The shopkeeper fumbled on the wall, and the light turned on, causing a few spiders, startled by the brightness, to scurry down the wall.

Eugene was relieved. “It’s you!” Mainly because he wasn’t wearing his top hat. Otherwise, even in a large cloak, Eugene was confident he’d recognize him.

Charlie struggled to roll up his cloak from the ground and then flipped it off in one swift motion—

Eugene’s wide smile froze as he instinctively stepped back.

Facing him was a man with the shopkeeper’s voice but without a rabbit’s head, smiling at him. The slightly elongated eyes, overly pale skin, and slightly curled copper-gold hair, though unfamiliar, felt strangely familiar.

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